


The Bard and the Witch

by Ashtree11



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bards, F/F, Fantasy, Pining, Romance, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 13:35:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21339085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashtree11/pseuds/Ashtree11
Summary: Tales of a fearsome and reclusive witch fills the tavern night after night, courtesy of the well-received bard, Avalon Mischek. But she is more familiar with the witch than she lets on, beyond the tales that she spins and the warnings that follow her audience.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	The Bard and the Witch

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing short stories for a while, but this'll be the first time I'm posting one publicly. I think it will be some good practice for me to finally have one just out there instead of collecting dust in my google drive. This is un-beta'd so any critiques and reviews are more than welcome

Bards aren’t an uncommon sight in the taverns throughout the city. They were hubs for entertainment at the end of every day, captivating their audiences with songs and stories. One bard, in particular, can be found in the Waning Crescent Tavern. She sang about the lives of legendary Medea the Wise and Calliope the Enduring to the plucking of a lute; recounted tales of battle to the beat of hand-drum; and serenaded the tavern with the melodies of a flute that captured the freedom of sailing the seas.

While they were all staples of success for her career, her favorite stories to tell were ones about the witch isolated deep within the woods that surrounded the city walls. 

With the help of her trusty lute, she wove chilling fables of unassuming people disappearing without a trace, abducted by the sinister witch if they stray off the forest paths for even a moment. The bard spoke in hushed cadences as she sang of the trees acting as scouts, whispering to the witch of potential victims. Although the bard is often met with good-natured scoffs of disbelief and courteous rounds of applause followed by coins filling her tricorn hat on the floor, she could tell that her audience regarded the forest edge with hesitation and wariness.

Late one night, the bard concluded her final song, and retreated into her usual spot at the table in the corner beside the large fireplace. She poured the day’s earnings from her tricorn hat into her coin bag and sighed as piece after piece clattered inside. It wasn’t her best night by a long shot as more coppers than silvers filled the modest-sized pouch, but money was money.  
She fastened the drawstring of the bag back on her belt, ready to be counted later once she was in the safety of her own home. She relaxed into her chair, tuning the strings of her lute. Passively, she kept an ear open to any latest news and so-called “sightings” of the witch that the people claimed to have.

“I’ve seen it with my own eyes,” insisted one man. “The witch’s cottage is a disgusting thing. Decrepit and surrounded with bones.” His fingers waved in a circle, vaguely illustrating a perimeter. “I swear they’re human bones, but I heard one of the hag’s watch dogs growling from the shadows. I turned tail and barely escaped with my life, I tell ya.” He finished with a long swig of his drink while the two other men he spoke to sat across from him, engrossed in his words.

The bard shook her head and chuckled quietly to herself. The witch didn’t own dogs and she certainly wouldn’t just leave bones laying about so carelessly. She had more class than to have such things going to waste like that. The bard swung her legs up onto the table, her lute resting onto her elevated lap with ease and muscle memory took over as her fingers played a steady tune. It was soft enough as to not overpower the calm energy of the tavern or draw attention to herself.  
Her eyes fell closed. The warmth of the fireplace embraced her and accompanied the improvised melody with crackles and occasional pops. 

The sound of a throat clearing pulled the bard out of her reverie. She cracked open an eye and her fingers halted in place along the neck of the lute. Standing over her was a gruff-looking traveler covered in colorful layers of clothing with heavy armor underneath. A scarf obscured the lower half of their face, leaving only bright blue eyes to remain visible. A greatsword was strapped to the stranger’s back, adding another inch or two to their stature. The bard had to admit that the sight was intimidating, especially from her seated position.

“Yes?” the bard inquired.

“A few of the patrons pointed you to me as the bard of this tavern,” said the stranger.

“Sorry, I just finished for the night. I’ll be here tomorrow afternoon if you want a performance,” she dismissed and returned to playing her little tune.

“Actually, my party is about to leave to a neighboring kingdom. We’ve been tasked to clear out a former military fortress that has been housing a band of bandits and we have found ourselves in need of a bard.”

The bard ceased her playing once more.

“All the taverns we visited have shared many recommendations,” the stranger continued. “but they all seem to have mentioning you in common. You are Avalon Mischek, yes?”

“Just Ava,” the bard corrected as she jerked her chin towards the empty chair across from her. The stranger pulled off the greatsword before sitting down. “It’s not often I hear someone looking to hire a bard in this part of the province, so color me curious.”

The stranger sat up in their seat, seemingly delighted that she was at least entertaining the proposal. “The journey will take us a week’s time. My party and I agreed that you would be paid handsomely where half will be given to you when we leave, and the rest will follow once we complete our task.”

“I see,” Ava mused. “And why me in particular?”

The stranger raised a brow. “Fishing for compliments?”

Ava scoffed. “Please. I know my own reputation, I don’t need to ‘fish’ for compliments. I walk away every night with plenty of coin in my bag and a guaranteed welcome back to a tavern who respects my skills. And let’s not forget that you came to me.”

The stranger cleared their throat. “Right, I suppose so. My apologies.”

“Anyway.” Ava plucked a few strings as she spoke, “I only asked because every bard has their own style of playing. I was curious if there was something about mine that makes it more suitable for you and you team than other bards in the city.”

“Well, according to the innkeepers we’ve spoken to, you seem to have the most experience with travel. They have also described you to have a substantial list of songs and legends.” The stranger’s eyes turned downcast. They tapped their nails against the wood table for a moment before continuing, “We are weary travelers and work has been scarce this season, I must confess that my party and I have been lacking in morale. I feel that you would be a good fit for this quest even if you’ll be a temporary addition.”

“I see.” Ava set aside her lute. “When do you leave?”

“In three days.”

Three days. Plenty of time to get her things together, definitely, yet it still felt like short notice. It has been quite some time since she’s traveled anywhere that wasn’t within the city walls. The last party to hire her was maybe a year ago, and the trip kept her busy for nearly three months. The journey left her drained and provided her with an ample amount of material for her songs she hasn’t needed to search out or accept another party’s proposal for adventure.

As she mulled over the decision, the stranger shifted nervously in their seat. Finally, she concluded that a year is probably long enough of a hiatus and this’ll only take a week. She can manage this easily.

Ava sat forward in the chair and grabbed the stranger’s tapping hand to give a firm shake. “Alright, you have yourself a bard.” 

“Really? Oh, this is fantastic!”Despite having a face wrap, she could tell by the crinkle in their eyes that they were grinning. “My party and I have rooms at the Tankard Trove, I’m sure you know the one. Ask the innkeeper for a Thalius Grimm, that’s me.

“Tankard Trove,” she parrotted with a nod. “Easy enough to remember. It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Thalius” 

Ava stood up from her chair and packed up her things. She slung the lute onto her shoulder, followed by her hand drum at her hip, then her flute around her neck. With a final flourish, she placed her tricorn hat over her head and gave the stranger a short bow. “I shall see you in three days then.” And she left before they could say another word. She had news to break to a dear friend now.  
Ava pushed through the old door, stepping out into the early evening. The sun was setting, casting dark shadows on the cobblestone streets and the people who were making their way to their homes after a long day of work. Her instruments swayed and thudded against her body as she walked hastily through the city, heading straight towards the gates where the ever darkening forest yawned just beyond it. In her peripherals, she could see people steal glances at her, and they eyed the forest line warily. She didn’t pay them any mind though she couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at her lips.  


She crossed over the forest border onto the dirt path that carved through the forest floor, and already she could feel the crackle of a magical presence overtake her. The tree leaves shivered as she passed them despite there not being any trace of a breeze. The gravel crunched beneath her leather boots until she stopped at the first fork in the road that divided into two separate routes. She chose the left path, but rather than following it Ava stepped off the gravel where gnarled tree roots lined the edge.

To any inexperienced traveler, the sheer density of the area unmarked by the safety of the gravel road would instill panic and the conclusion of directionlessness. But Ava has walked this forest more times than she could count. She stepped over and around roots, shrubs, and fallen logs as easily as if she were merely taking a stroll. The rustling of the trees overhead grew louder and the crackle of magic from before became a constant hum against her skin, instilling a sense of unease that settled into the pit of her stomach. The shadows elongated, extinguishing the remaining remnants of sunset beams that broke through the trees. Her instincts screamed at her to turn around, turn around before it was too late. She pressed on, knowing that it was just the protective ward just doing its job.

Eventually she broke through the trees and into a small meadow with soft grass and wildflowers with a single cottage at the center. A wisp of smoke curled up from the brick chimney and a dull orange glow peeked out from the drawn curtains at the window.

Ava took a moment to breathe. She rested her hands on her knees, counting her heartbeat in tandem with slow measured breaths. It felt like she had trudged through molasses with how suddenly light her body was. She could have the route memorized all she wants, but there was no getting used to that protection ward, only endurance.

She straightened her posture and continued towards the cottage. As she got closer, the sound of clinking ceramic made its way to her. Descending the wooden steps of the porch came an enchanted clay pot with six spindly legs carrying a flowering succulent on its back. The pot pranced in place, greeting her as she made her way up the steps. Ava gave the pot a small pat on its side and knocked on the red wood door. She readjusted her instruments and waited.

A second passed before a muffled voice responded. “You have a key, Ava.”

Ava rolled her eyes and fished out a brass key from her pouch to insert it into the keyhole. “Just trying to be courteous, October,” she reasoned with a sing-songy lilt and she let herself in. A soft meow called up to her, pulling her attention down at October’s short haired white and brown cat. The cat meowed again, her blue eyes gazing at Ava until the bard finally bent down to scratch her chin.

“Oh is that what you call it?” October said from the kitchen. She looked to be in the middle of cutting vegetables for a simple soup dinner. “You’re earlier than usual. Slow night at the tavern?”

“The hearts of the masses are delicate things. The tales of the infamous witch’s shady endeavors must be told sparingly,” Ava said in a hush, as if she was sharing a conspiracy. All the while she busied herself with unloading her instruments and setting them carefully up against the dining table and chairs.

“How generous of you,” Toby chuckled and stirred her soup. “Perhaps at some point you can tell them that I eat the victims that I supposedly kidnapped off the road. I’ve been feeling an abundance of curious souls venturing a little too close for my taste.”

Ava laughed at the suggestion. “I’ll keep that in mind. At this rate the economy will cease to exist if the merchants become too scared to leave the city.”  
Speaking of curious souls, I overheard a man claim to have seen your cottage himself.”

“Oh really? How incredibly foolish of him.” Toby came over to the table, the bowl of soup steaming in her hands. “Are you hungry?”

Ava waved a hand. “I’m fine, I ate at the tavern. Anyway, he was adamant about telling his audience that your cottage was a heinous creation and that you had bones littering your yard.”

Toby scoffed. “How dare he. I’m absolutely offended, I have more class than that.”

“He also thought he heard dogs growling at him.”

“I’m almost tempted to keep a few canines around.” Right on cue, Toby’s cat jumped up on to the table. “But Luna is all I need.”

A pause fell between the two of them. Toby stirred her soup about, pensive and focused while Ava devoted her attention to Luna. 

Then Toby’s head tilted to the side. “Did something else happen tonight?”

“What makes you ask?” Ava deflected, still busying herself with the cat.

“There’s a slight crease between your brows that tells me that there’s something you need to tell me. Also you’ve rarely ever declined my cooking regardless if you’ve already eaten.”

Ava raised her hands in resignation, much to Luna’s chagrin. “Perceptive as always, Toby.”

“Thank you, I try. Now back to my question, Avalon.”

Ava winced at the use of her full name, the universal indication of seriousness in a conversation. “Alright... I was approached by someone tonight, a real adventurer type looking for a bard to join their party in getting rid of some bandits.” She braced herself for a response.

October’s absent stirring stopped. “Oh... I see. Well, I suppose that is has been quite some time since your last outing. I assume you accepted the offer then?”

“I did.”

The witch hummed, then smiled a half smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “When are you leaving?”

“In three days. It will only be for a week anyway so that’s hardly enough time to miss me right?” she attempted to jest.

To which October only sighed and rolled her eyes. “Oh of course. Perhaps without your obsessive rehearsals, Luna and I shall finally have decent sleep.”

Ava laughed. “That’s the spirit!”

“In all seriousness, Avalon,” October continued, “please be careful. A year is a long time to be out of the action.”

Once more, Ava waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll be fine, I’m not that out of practice. It’s just some bandits hiding out at an old fort, I’ve handled worse.”

“And in even more seriousness, though you’ll be gone for only a week, I will still very much miss you.”

Ava’s confident grin fell. The shift from the light banter to the earnestness in October’s voice caught her off guard. She scratched at the back of her neck “Oh, uh, I’ll miss you too. It’s going to be strange getting back into traveling again even if it’s not for very long...” she trailed.

October chuckled for the first time that night and she leaned forward with her chin propped in her hands. “It’s adorable that it takes so little for the bold and brash bard to become so flustered.”

With indignant huff, Ava crossed her arms. “Why do I bother telling you anything if all you’re going to do is tease?”

“I wasn’t even trying,” she defended through her bout of giggles. “I merely spoke my mind, Ava. Even when you’re out in town all day, I still find myself missing your company. Now, having you gone for a week after having all to myself this whole year... well, it’s going to be an adjustment to say the least.”

Ava groaned into her hands, feeling her face growing warmer by the second. “For someone who lives like a hermit you’re awfully good at making this sound casual.”

“Of course I can, how could I not? You are a dear friend of mine,” she countered with a concerned tilt of her head. 

Right... a friend, Ava echoed.

“You’re frowning.”

Was she? “Just thinking about the trip that’s all.”

“Getting cold feet?”

Ava scoffed. “Please, not a chance.”

“Well good, because as much as I’d hate to see you leave, I think getting out of town will be good for you. New material for songs and such, yes?”  


“Again, coming from someone who’s a hermit.” Her gaze drifted towards the window. Night had fully fallen and it was time to turn in. Tomorrow she will need to take the time to gather supplies and dig out her old sword from the depths of her trunk. Hopefully it won’t need to be serviced beyond a simple sharpening.  


“Returning home?” Toby guessed as Ava scooted back in her chair. 

“I should. I have a busy day ahead of me tomorrow.”

“Well then before you go, I have something for you.” She quickly stood up and flittered into her bedroom.

“What’s the occasion?” Ava called after her. When she received only silence, she added, “You know how I feel about gift-giving, Toby.”  


“Oh hush and let me do this for you,” came the muffled response.  


After a few moments of scuffling and concerning thumps, October eventually emerged from the room. Her arms were hidden behind her back and her lips were upturned in a soft smile.

“Could you come here, Ava?” she requested.  


With a reluctant sigh, the bard relented and stepped forward. “You really don’t have to give me anything, you know,” she muttered, looking anywhere besides October’s warm brown eyes.  


“I know. But it will give me peace of mind that you’ll have it.” And with that, she placed an amulet over Ava’s head. It was a small, silver disk with runes etched along the edges and an obsidian set in the center.  


It took less than a second for Ava to remember exactly what this necklace was. “Oh no, October, I can’t take—”  


“Avalon, please,” Toby insisted. “Perhaps it’s childish to be giving this to you even though you’ll only be gone a week, but it feels appropriate and I genuinely will feel better knowing that you have this with you.”  


She lifted the amulet from where it rested against Ava’s chest and held it gingerly in her palm. She stared at it with fondness glimmering in her eyes. “The first protection charm I’ve ever crafted... I’m still very proud of it after all these years. It’s been collecting dust in my wardrobe and it needs to see the outside, much like you.” Her fond expression turned sober, bordering on pleading. “But a charm will only work as long as its wearer wishes it. So please, come home safe, Avalon.”  


Ava swallowed, her throat tight as though her heart had lodged itself there. She was hyper-conscious of close they were. Her breaths were quick—oh gods October will surely notice— and any chance of coherent words died on her tongue. Is it possible that October...  


“Of course I’ll be back. As if you could rid of me so easily,” Ava jested to mask the anxious hope welling inside her.  


“Right, how could I have thought otherwise?" October shook her head goodnaturedly. "I won’t keep you any longer then. Be safe going home. Don’t let the scary witch ensnare you,” she warned with a theatrical wave of her fingers for effect.  


Ava only chuckled as she loaded on her gear and stepped out of the warm cottage. It wasn’t until she was at the tree line that she clutched the charm with a soft, yet still sad smile. “She already has,” she sighed, her heart heavy.

**Author's Note:**

> update: I'm @ashtree111 on twitter :3


End file.
